


Contest

by TwinVax



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Antagonism, Drabble, Fun, Gen, Wrestling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-12-30 07:26:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18310958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwinVax/pseuds/TwinVax
Summary: Fjord and Nott have an arm wrestling match.





	Contest

Fjord is alone in the bar, while the others are off shopping and getting needed supplies. They had of course asked him to come, but he didn’t much like shopping for things at all, so he had turned them down. He had started regretting that choice, just a bit, after a couple hours on his lonesome at a table tucked away against the far wall, where he could see if any of his friends walked in.

The door opened a few hours in, while he still nursed his first tankard, and he looked up to see Nott as she made her way to him and climbed in the chair opposite him. She looked frazzled and bothered, obviously drunk already from the flask in her hand. She dropped it on the wood and leaned over the table, hand out towards him, looking like someone had personally offended her.

Maybe someone had, but Fjord had no idea why she would be holding her hand out towards him, for some reason, until she growled and shook her hand, making grabbt motions with it at him that didnt lessen his bewilderment, “Let’s arm wrestle. I wanna prove I can beat you, Beau said I couldn’t.”

“Did she?” Fjord asked, mildly amused but mostly confused.

Nott nodded, “Yeah. She said we are both kinda the same strength, but you know. I can actually shoot things, Jester told me about you failing at throaing three flour sacks or something. So.” she shrugged, pushing her hand towards him more insistantly.

Fjord sighed, displeasure curling his lips at that specific reminder, “Fine. If it’ll get you to leave me be afterwards. Why not.” he clasped hands with her, and waited until she moved into a position that meant both their elbows were on the table, before he counted down.

Once the contest started, he focused only on trying to force her hand to the wood, same as he figured she was, not bothering much to look anywhere besides their joined hands.

He struggled with it for barely more then a minute before he felt her grasp shift, and he only had a second to be both confused and excited that he might win, before he felt the sharp pain of her teeth pierce into his forearm.

He yelped in both pain and surprise, grip loosened just enough for her to slam his hand down on the table and let out a crow of victory, arms over her head, as she hopped off her stool.

“I win! Suck it, you, tell Beau I won! I’m going… I’m gunna be upstairs. Let Caleb know when he comes back, that I’m probably sleeping.” Nott ordered, sounding much more tired now, as she went upstairs out of sight.

Fjord stared after her, keeping his hand over the wound to keep from bleeding, and cursed his luck.


End file.
